


Purim Anatevka

by Treon



Category: Fiddler on the Roof - Bock/Harnick/Stein
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 05:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6315925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chava tells Fyedka about a local Jewish holiday</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purim Anatevka

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ryfkah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryfkah/gifts).



> Many Jewish communities celebrated a 'second Purim' (Purim Sheni), a day of thanksgiving to commemorate a tragedy averted.

  
It had been a few days since Chava met Fyedka.  As she walked along the dirt road, Papa's cow by her side, she idly wondered if she'll meet him again.  Did she want to?  She wasn't sure.    
  
She heard footsteps hurrying behind her, and despite her best intention, turned to look.  
  
It was Fyedka.  He easily fell into step with her.  
  
"Good afternoon, Chava."  
  
"Good afternoon, Fyedka."  
  
He smiled to himself at the mention of his name.  "I didn't see you the past few days.  I thought... " he hesitated.  
  
"What?"  
  
He caught her glance. "I thought you were staying away from me."  
  
Chava felt the heat creep up her cheeks.  Fyedka was like no other guy she knew.  Strong and handsome.  Not like Tzeitel's Motel, whose constant straining over a sewing machine left his back broken and his eyes dreamy.  
  
"It was a holiday."  And even as she said the words, she wondered why she felt the need to apologize.  
  
"Jews have a lot of holidays, don't they?"    
  
" _We_ do," Chava answered, emphasizing the 'we'.    
  
Fyedka fell silent, and Chava feared that she might have offended him.  It was an over-defensive reaction to his off-handed comment. But she did not know what to say.    
  
For a while they walked silently, Chava unsure how to restart the thread of conversation.    
  
"What kind of holiday was it?" Fyedka asked, and Chava suddenly wished they would have continued in silence.  
  
"You know... a holiday."  
  
"No, I don't."  
  
"It's a day of thanksgiving."  
  
"Just like that?" It wasn't harvest time yet.  And even if it had been, the Jews had no fields.  What did they have to be thankful for?  
  
"Just like that."  She hoped he would drop the subject, but, apparently, he had no intention of doing so.  
  
"Thanksgiving for what?"  
  
"It's for something that happened many years ago. It is not important."  
  
"Chava, if you celebrate it, it must be important." He put a hand on her arm, stopping her in her tracks.  
  
She pulled her arm away from him, her voice rising in anger.  "You want to know why we celebrate?  We celebrate because we're still alive.  We celebrate because many years ago, a little Christian child wandered off in Anatevka and a mob demanded Jewish blood, and-" She broke off.    
  
"And what happened?"  
  
"The child showed up again.  It was a great deliverance."  Nobody had been killed, and that itself was enough to be thankful for.  
  
He looked stricken.  "Do you blame me?  For what my forefathers may have done?"  
  
This was not how she had thought things would go.  It was not how she had _wanted_ this meeting to go.  The very thought scared her.    
  
"I don't know," she snapped, and without another word, walked off, the cow following her.  
  
He didn't follow.    
  
And Chava, much to her chagrin, realized that she wished he had.

 


End file.
